


Rejected

by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)



Series: Occasionally Domestic [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Derek, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Body Hair, College Student Stiles, Come Marking, Established Relationship, Loss of Control, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Objectification, Scent Kink, Self-Conscious Derek, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenNara/pseuds/Little%20Spoon
Summary: Derek hated his looks, but Stiles had taken the time to meet the man below the surface, and Derek loved him for it.





	Rejected

Derek hated his looks. He wasn’t oblivious. He knew his looks garnered a certain amount of unwanted attention, which he despised because he was more than a ‘pretty’ face and ‘chiseled’ abs as Stiles had once pointed out. He loved when Derek talked nerdy to him. But hardly anyone ever took the time to look past the aesthetic, and somehow, his scowl didn't discourage like he hoped, but encouraged them to try. Even now, as he walked across Stiles’ campus to pick his boyfriend up for lunch, heads turned. He could feel the hunger in their gaze.

Complete strangers wanted him for nothing more than the way he looked. He wasn’t an object or a possession. Derek may not be human, not that the general populace knew that, but he still a person who deserved a certain level of respect. He growled under his breath and shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Women were the worst perpetrators. For whatever reason, they seemed to labour under the impression that blatant objectification of him was their right. If he made openly sexual comments about a woman, he would be socially ostracized, but the reverse never happened. Like he should be honoured by their attention. A hunter never stripped down a female werewolf when they were caught, but again and again, Derek found himself stripped bare and shackled on display.

Well, Derek wasn’t interested in attention. He liked to stick to the shadows, maintain his image as a ‘creeper wolf’ as Stiles liked to call him.

Derek picked out an empty bench to wait for Stiles and pulled his jacket tighter around himself to ward off stray glances trying to peek at his abs through his tight tank top. He’d  dressed for Stiles because he liked to hear the rapid patter of his boyfriend’s heart when Stiles saw him, not them. His grumpy glower and clenched jaw did nothing to ward off the unwanted attention.

A small group of four gossiping women took turns sneaking glances and him and giggling. He tried not to listen in, but couldn’t help but overhear their conversation, even over the din of the campus activity.

“Oh my god,” one of the women said, voice tapering off into a near moan. “I bet he’s got a rockin’ body. Look at him, all shy. Bet he’s an animal in bed, just need to coax it out of him.”

“Is he a student or a teacher?” another said, peeking around her friend and then immediately ducking out of sight.

“Maybe a TA? I wouldn’t say no to a little extra credit, if you know what I mean.”

They all giggled behind their hands, still not so subtly sneaking peeks at him across the courtyard. Derek shrunk down in his seat, curling in on himself to hide, but that only seemed to spur them on as they aww’d at his apparent bashfulness.

“Ask for his number,” one of them urged her friend.

“Yeah. You totally should,” the first woman added. “A bit of rebound action after that douche Steve. You deserve some fun.”

“There’s no way a guy like that is single,” the woman in question said.

“Fuck. He’s so hot. I want to climb him like a tree. Those arms.”

“That ass.”

“Nude model?” one joked, and they all giggled again. “I’d take that art class.”

Derek tried not to listen to them swapping fantasies about him and what they would do to him in bed, and attempted to seek out Stiles’ heartbeat in the surrounding buildings, but he couldn’t hone in on it. He pulled out his phone to distract himself, swiping through the apps without really watching the screen.

One of the woman, a short brunette with a pink streak in her bangs, walked towards him, nervously glancing back over her shoulder for her friends’ encouragement, which they gave with enthusiastic nods and waved her forward. She stopped a foot in front of him and shyly peered down at him through her lashes while she twisted her fingers together.

“Ummm… hi,” she said and bit her lower lip.

Expression neutral, Derek stared up at her, but said nothing, as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“My uh, friends. They kinda dared me to come over here and talk to you,” she tried and again, looked back at her friends, who were once again giggling and watching them with rapt attention while whispering to each other about their friend’ chances with him. They seemed to think it was a sure thing.

“Not interested,” Derek said flatly.

The woman’s nervously hopeful face fell and her shoulders drooped. “But I- I just…”

“Derek!”

Hearing his boyfriend’s voice, Derek immediately perked up. Down the opposite path the woman had congregated on, Stiles was hurriedly shuffling towards him in his usual clumsy stride. His messenger bag bounced on one hip, strap across his chest, and the hood of his red hoodie was drawn up over the grey beanie he’d stolen from Derek earlier that morning.

Sidestepping the woman standing over him, Derek met Stiles halfway. He barely had time to brace himself before Stiles had leapt at him, laughing madly, and Derek indulged him, swinging him around before pecking him on the nose.

“Went well, I take it?” Derek asked as Stiles ran a hand down Derek’s chest and tugged him forward by the belt and into a hungry kiss. “That good, huh?”

Stiles grinned. His hood had fallen off and his cheeks were flushed. ‘’Aced it. Now, where’s my reward?”

“You’re gonna have to wait until tonight for that,” Derek murmured. He nibbled Stiles’ earlobe, relishing the delicious shiver it sent down his boyfriend’s spine. “Ready to go?”

The rejected woman had shuffled back to her friends, who were now consoling her with put downs against the offending party. In other words, trash talking Derek for apparently not appreciating her innate awesomeness, their words, not Derek’s. He was an idiot for brushing her off, and she could do better, or so they told her.

“You’re so much hotter than that skinny little twig,” one of the women said in reference to Stiles. “What a nerd.”

The growl that rumbled deep in Derek’s chest made Stiles jump, but Derek couldn’t stop. His fangs prickled his gums, itching to drop. He wanted to rip their throats out.

Derek was used to superficial people taking his rejection badly, but when they insulted Stiles…

“Derek?” Stiles’ voice was soft and unsure, so full of concern. He cupped Derek’s cheek, trying to peer up into Derek’s eyes as Derek tightened his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Shit, your eyes. Hey. Hey, sourwolf? What’s wrong?” he asked, already scanning the campus with narrow eyes in search of the apparent threat. “Crap. We need to get you out of here, ‘kay, big guy? We need to get you the hell out of here.”

Derek whined softly and pulled Stiles against him, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s neck and inhaling their combined scent. This was the man he loved. The Stiles that prioritized Derek’s needs over his own, and understood him without Derek even saying a word.

Stiles never called him sexy, at least not to his face. He knew Stiles finds him attractive. He can sense the lust that often rolls off him, taste it on his tongue, so much so that Derek almost drowns daily in the onslaught of pure wanton need.

“Der?” Stiles’ fingers ran through Derek’s hair. “Let’s go home. We can go for lunch another time. You can strip me down and smother me in your scent while we watch one of those nature documentaries you love so much.”

Derek nodded and stepped back, but refused to completely release Stiles. He placed a hand on his back, and lead Stiles away from women viciously trashing Stiles behind his back, and Stiles, obliviously to their slander, let him.

By the time they were climbing the stairs of their apartment, Derek breathed a little easier. He locked their door behind them and crowded Stiles back towards the couch, slowly stripping his boyfriend of his clothing until he pressed Stiles to sink down onto the couch. But instead of taking a seat beside him, Derek dropped to his knees, still fully clothed, between Stiles’ spread thighs, and buried his face in Stiles’ belly.

Stiles hummed and pet Derek’s head. He moaned softly when Derek nosed through Stiles’ short pubes, inhaling the concentrated scent of his aroused lover. Stiles’ cock twitched, nudging Derek in the chin, and Derek licked Stiles’ stomach He tasted like their combined cum he had massaged into Stiles’ skin that morning when he sent Stiles off to school with a very happy wake-up.

“S’not fair I’m the only naked one,” Stiles mumbled as he ran a hand through Derek’s hair. His blunt nails scratched lightly against Derek’s scalp. “Come on, Der. Join the party.” He tugged on the collar of Derek’s jacket.

Derek obliged, eagerly stripping down under the intense scrutinization of Stiles’ hungry gaze. Still, Stiles never failed to make Derek feel loved as his boyfriend pulled him down to straddle his lap and tease him with little kisses as he ran his hands up Derek’s thighs.

For Stiles, Derek wasn’t an object to be obtained, sexualized, or degraded. He was just Derek. There had been that one time. Stiles had still been a scared sixteen-year-old boy in over his head when he used Derek to collect information without his consent. That had been rectified. They had grown together. Neither of them were the same person they had been in Beacon Hills. If they had been, their relationship never would have cemented the way it had. Derek had never once looked at Stiles as a romantic or sexual partner before. Not until New York.

Derek loved Stiles’ mind. He loved their endless debates and teasing. He could listen to Stiles ramble on about the strangest, most abstract concepts for hours, and never once be bored because Stiles enjoyed his company, and wanted Derek for his own intelligence and quirks.

Stiles’ long fingers played with Derek’s dark curls of neatly trimmed chest hair, and Derek couldn’t stop the flush that warmed his cheeks. At one point, Derek used to wax his body hair and had kept himself immaculately groomed. Kate had wormed her way into his head and warped his perception of his own body by claiming disgusting body hair was unattractive. He hadn’t had much in the way of body hair back then. Only sixteen at the time. But as he grew older, he had grown more self-conscious.

“You’re cute,” Stiles said with a dopey grin. He petted Derek’s chest and leaned in to nip playfully at Derek’s scruffy chin.

Stiles never called Derek hot or sexy. Well, no. He did, but it didn’t carry the same weight as random strangers on the street because it wasn’t the same. Stiles saw him differently, and Derek saw Stiles differently for it. Derek trusted Stiles.

Growling, Derek pinned Stiles to the cushions, lowering his body to cover his boyfriend, chests pressed tightly together, lips inches apart. Stiles cackled madly, warm breath tickling Derek’s cheeks.

“I’m going to take you apart, slowly,” Derek said in a breathy moan. Stiles shivered under him. “Fuck, baby. You want that, don’t you?”

Stiles whimpered and nodded, frantic and trembling as Derek trailed kisses down his chest and stomach until Stiles cock dripped with need. “Please, Der.”

“Anything for you, baby boy,” Derek said. He lapped at the bead of precum at the tip of Stiles’ pink cock and smiled, showing off the bunny teeth Stiles adored so much. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can stalk me on Tumblr here: [Always the Little Spoon](http://always-the-little-spoon.tumblr.com/)


End file.
